Page 42 of Shield

My heart sinks. Until I realize what he’s fishing for.

“If you think I have evidence that you blew up my sister’s plane, I don’t,” I snap. “Other than your fucking confession.”

For the first time, he drops my gaze first, but only for the briefest second. When his eyes flick back up to meet mine, there’s something guarded there, cold.

My blood turns to ice in my veins as I feel my chances of getting Matti to help me slip away. No longer do I see the guilt I must have imagined on his face last night. The notion that I had any control over this man was clearly an illusion, and it’s making my head hurt.

Honesty and full disclosure feel like my only options, albeit a last resort. And transparently desperate.

“If you’re worried that there is evidence on this phone ofwhat you did, don’t be. Unless you know something I don’t, I doubt there are any mysterious texts or pictures on here that incriminate you. Emily was devoted to Mikey, and she refused to keep other men’s phone numbers in her phone, much less contact them. Not even a plumber or a dentist.”

“She sounds like a good woman,” Matti says softly.

I’m surprised that the way he says that—respectfully, reverently—makes a lump form in my throat.

The distance between our bodies feels infinitesimally small, and I fight the urge to wrap my arms around him and rest my cheek against his chiseled chest.

“She was,” I say, swallowing hard. My voice is raspy, and I can barely speak above a whisper. “If you help me, I will show you everything on it. I promise.”

20

Siena

Idon’t know why I said that. The whole fucking point was to find whatever evidence I could to put Matti behind bars. If he did this.

With a jolt, I suddenly realize that part of me desperately wants to believe that Matti did kill Emily, wants to believe his confession, to believe Aurelio and Franco. Because if he didn’t do it, I have no idea who did, and not knowing is so much worse than thinking the man I love—

Fuck me. Not ‘love.’

But I also know that Aurelio and Franco are both liars, and Matti? He told me he didn’t do it, but then he also told me he did. Didn’t he? I try to replay his exact words the night he threw me out, but it’s all a blur.

“You’ll show me everything?” Matti asks, trying to cover his surprise. “What if you find something that is, as you say, incriminating? What then?”

I reach into my pocket and pull out the broken watch band and take his hand, placing it in his palm. Touching him sends shivers down my spine and makes my nipples hard. Becausehe’s so close to me, I can feel his cock move through his jeans, and it gives me a little bit of satisfaction to know that even if he doesn’t want me, his body still does.

“I found this in the things I took from the plane crash.”

Matti steps back, furrowing his brow, and shoves the rest of the pancake in his mouth so he can use both hands to flatten out the watch band. Turning it over, he holds it up to the light so that he can better see the engraving on it. “What’s this?”

“It’s the Bellamorte family crest. See? You can see the B there.” I stand behind him on my tiptoes to point it out to him, my breasts brushing up against his back, still damp from the shower.

I look down to see if I got my sweater wet and notice that stupid coffee stain. Quickly, I slide it off and toss it on the back of the breakfast cart. I suddenly regret leaving the house looking like a hot mess and immediately wish more than anything that I didn’t give a fuck about that and could stay focused.

“What’s the date?” he asks, looking back at me over his shoulder. Something in his eyes darkens, and I suddenly feel nervous and move away from him, deeper into the living space.

“My parents’ anniversary.”

“So, this was your father’s?” Matti asks, following me.

I continue backing away until I run into one of the couches, then sit down, perching on the edge carefully, and nod.

He frowns. “Your father has been gone awhile. So it was given to Emily when he died?”

“My mother kept it,” I say, my throat feeling like it’s about to close up entirely. “I’m hoping there are some texts on the phone that tell me when it was given to her. Because shenever told me.”

Matti’s face drains of color as I’m speaking, and his expression hardens. He places the watch band carefully in my palm, holding my hand longer than he has to. So long that I look up to see him watching me.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly.

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